


Shutdown Checkups

by fragrantwoods



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Anal Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Prison Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragrantwoods/pseuds/fragrantwoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a BSG-Kink theme: government shutdowns, furloughs, etc. and (my own) prompt: Zarek/Meier, prison asks for inmate volunteers to escort prisoners to infirmary for routine physicals</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shutdown Checkups

 

 

Tom rarely volunteered for anything. But the prison doctor had made a good case for helping out during the shutdown. And it wasn’t like he had anything else to do…the library, rec yard, and weight room had all been shut down, no staff to keep them open.   
  
And he had thought of an angle. As usual.  
  
He’d gone up and down the pod corridors for hours, it felt like, escorting prisoners to and from their scheduled infirmary checkups. Not that the authorities were that concerned about the prisoners’ well-being, but Gods forbid anyone got released carrying any diseases that might affect the law-abiding.   
  
His heart began racing as he approached the pod he’d saved for last.  
  
“Meier! You’re up. Come with me.”   
  
Meier gave him a sidelong look. “Wondered where you were today.” There was a hint of anxiety around his eyes. He didn’t do well with a withdrawal of Tom’s attention.   
  
The clipboard in Tom’s hand seemed to convey even more authority than he usually had. Grabbing the collar of his Meier’s shirt, he yanked him up. “Quit stalling, inmate.” Meier stumbled as he rose.   
  
“Tom, what—“ He yelped as Tom grabbed a handful of thick chestnut hair and pulled it hard.   
  
“I said quit stalling.”   
  
Tom saw the anxious lines soften. Meier seemed to be feeling back on solid ground again, Tom ordering, him obeying.   
  
The walk to the infirmary was fast and quiet. When they got there, Tom saw his luck was holding…the doctor had been interrupted by a shanking emergency, and was cursing, irrigating wounds and stitching up two inmates.   
  
“Just stick him in the second examining room,” the harried doctor barked, then turned back to his patient.   
  
 _Oh, I plan to._  
  
Tom shoved Meier inside and shut the door. For a few minutes, he would have his lover to himself, in a real room, with solid walls not made of bars. And a light that could stay on. His cock stiffened as he thought of a longer frak, of really watching Meier’s face when he came.   
  
He could tell the same thoughts occurred to Meier. He began a slow, teasing undressing, taking his time exposing his chest and abs, starting a slow smirk as he pulled his zipper down an inch at a time. Tom whirled him around, fighting a smug grin, and slapped his ass hard through the worn undershorts before shoving them down.  
  
“Up on the table, inmate. Quit wasting time.”   
  
In seconds, Meier was flat on his back, hands folded under his head, expression expectant. Tom reached under the paper covering at the sides of the table for what he’d noticed earlier. Too cheap to buy new equipment, the prison had bought everything second-hand from surplus supplies.   
  
Which explained why this table came equipped with metal stirrups.

He roughly guided his lover's feet until they rested in place, then angled the equipment apart, leaving Meier spread wide. He stepped back to drink in the sight.  
  
He’d never seem him so open, so ready for him. Meier's straining erection began leaking pearlescent fluid as soon as Tom gruffly ordered him to slide his ass to the end of the table.   
  
 _Do his ab muscles always ripple like that when I finger him?_  Tom wondered as he slid a lube-covered finger past the tight ring and deep into the hot, slick ass before him. How many of these fleeting facial expressions had he missed as they frakked in dark corners, or under covers with Meier face down under him?  
  
When he added another finger, twisting and probing for that most sensitive spot, Meier’s feet trembled in the stirrups, toes curling as he begged.   
  
 _His cock is so dark at the tip. I never noticed._ To both their surprise, he bent to lick the silvery threads off the slick flesh.   
  
“Tom? You never—“ Meier broke off with a groan as Tom grazed him with his teeth, one hand unzipping his work pants and releasing his own erection.   
  
“And I probably won’t again," he said, after a deep suck that hollowed his cheeks and made Meier clench the edge of the table. “So enjoy it while you can.” 

The taste of pre-cum was still on his lips when he slipped his fingers out of the tight hole and lubed his cock in a couple of long strokes. Meier lifted his hips off the table in entreaty, his balls tight against his body as he reached down and opened himself to Tom.   
  
“Please…” he groaned. Tom stared, fascinated at the lube-slick clenching hole nestled between lightly furred cheeks. He’d felt Meier’s asshole too many times to count, but seeing it, hot and hungry for his cock, had him biting his lip, anticipation running impossibly high.   
  
He slid, slow and deep, until his stomach was against warm flesh. Meier eased his feet out of the stirrups and wrapped his legs around Tom, pulling him even closer.   
  
 _His eyes look bluer when we’re frakking. Like the ocean…how did I miss that?_  
  
He locked his arms, bracing himself against the narrow table, and started smooth long strokes, watching Meier’s face contort every time his cock slid over the bundle of nerves deep inside. Callused hands reached up and gripped his biceps, pulling him even deeper, rougher. The table shuddered as Meier bucked beneath him, then grabbed the straining cock between them. As soon as Meier started stroking himself, his ass clenched and pulsed around Tom, whose thrusts became more erratic.   
  
“Look at me, godsdammit.  _Look at me,”_  Tom growled, leaning to work his fingers into that silky chestnut hair. Green eyes met blue, and he could feel himself almost falling into those eyes as his climax coiled and crashed against his senses, leaving him shaken and gasping.   
  
For the first time, his lips pressed into Meier’s as he came, muffling his guttural moans as spurt after spurt coated their skin.   
  
Still trembling with aftershock, Tom pulled out slowly, watching, fascinated as Meier drew shallow breaths, closing his eyes when Tom’s cock finally slipped out of his body.   
  
“I—“ Meier whispered, before Tom kissed him again. There were some things Tom needed the dark to handle, to hide behind. Talking about this…about them was one of those things.   
  
They had just cleaned up and finished dressing when the door opened after a cursory knock. The doctor looked exhausted, blood spatters on his white coat.   
  
“Gods, you’re still here?” The man looked like the last thing he wanted to do was examine one more person.  
  
“He’s the last one, Doc. I already took his vitals, and…he doesn’t have any complaints.” He turned and winked at a quietly blissful Meier.   
  
“Frak it…unless there’s something wrong you want to tell me about, I’m signing off on your chart and calling it a night. Godsdamn shutdown…no orderlies, nobody to restock supplies....” He scribbled his initials on the papers and turned, leaving the room while still grumbling about frakking bureaucrats frakking up his frakking infirmary runnings.  
  
“Get him back to his pod. You too, Zarek,” he called over his shoulder.  
  
Tom hesitated before switching off the light, burning the images of them frakking into his memory. It might be a long time before they had that kind of chance again.   
  
 _It won’t be the last time. And maybe, just once before we die, we’ll frak in daylight._  
  
The thought warmed him as they walked back to the pods, back into the shadows.

 

 


End file.
